


a storm of roses

by yumeniai



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged Down Characters, Alternate Universe - Ouran High School Host Club, And Minami, Literal baby Yurio, M/M, Ouran characters pretty much don't appear, They're all gay. Except JJ and Georgi., Victor just wants Yuuri, Yurio is fed up with all this bullshit, Yuuri just wants to skate, no knowledge of Ouran needed, they're 10, this is literal crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:31:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9093667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumeniai/pseuds/yumeniai
Summary: When Mari decides to attend university, figure skating is suddenly too expensive for Yuuri's family. He skates his final competition at fourteen and makes peace with his future. Instead, he's offered a sports scholarship to the most prestigious, expensive private school there is in Japan.  Ouran Academy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by the hilarious comic by [Hanciao](http://hanciao.tumblr.com/post/155058281335/homosexual-supporting-cast-in-reference-to-this).
> 
> I ... honestly have no clue what I'm doing. I should be packing. I should be sleeping. I should be studying. Instead I slammed out the first chapter of this in about 2 hours and will now retreat to my den to sleep. 
> 
> The number of times I had to redo the 'number of voices' thing because I kept forgetting characters ... 
> 
> I don't know when chapter 2 will be out. Probably after the new year. Or maybe before, if I can get my shit together and finish moving before then.

Figure skating is an expensive sport.

It’s a sport Yuuri loves, with all his heart and all his soul. To him, to skate is to glide, to fly. The feeling of his skates cutting across the ice, shards flying behind him as he jumps, the explosion when he lands …

He feels graceful. He feels beautiful. And he loves it with everything he has.

But it’s an expensive sport, and one his parents can no longer afford, not with Mari going to college next year.

Yuuri gets it. He knows that if he only asks, his parents would pull out all stops for him. Take out loans, mortgage their ryokan … anything and everything, for their children.

Yuuri doesn’t want that. He wants his parents to stay as they always have, happy, content in their little world.

But he just isn’t good enough to support himself yet. He’d entered the local competitions, and placed in a few, but he wasn’t good enough for Nationals, never mind the International competitions. Not without a dedicated coach, rather than just Minako-sensei doing her best in whatever spare time she had. She was an excellent ballet teacher, and a huge figure skating fan, but as a coach she lacked the basic knowledge that would bring Yuuri’s program to the next level.

So Yuuri entered this last, small competition, sponsored by the CEO of a hotel chain, the final competition of his season, with a heavy heart. This was it. The last time he would be able to glide on that ice, hear the people around him clap for him, feel the sickening nausea of anxiety coupled with unstoppable, giddy anticipation. The last time he would cast his eyes around, the world still a blur, and catch the length of Minako-sensei’s hair as she jumps up and down in support of him.

It’s his free skate, and he skates with all the emotions pent up inside. All his desperation, all his joy, all his love for the ice. All for his theme of ‘yearning’.

As he pants, hands outstretched in his final, beseeching pose, biting his lip so he doesn’t break down on the ice, he is reluctant to leave. Once he does, it’ll be over.

But he slowly glides towards the exit, to where Minako-sensei is waiting for him, tears in her eyes and arms ready for a hug. Safely in her arms, he lets his shoulders shake, feeling her blouse begin to dampen.

A man clears his voice behind them.

Minako, still holding Yuuri to her, whirls around with a scowl. “Hey, what’s-“

She gasps.

Yuuri tentatively turns his head, and even through the blur of tears and myopia, the golden hair and pristine suit is unexpected. He lets go of Minako-sensei, turning to the man fully, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. Silently, Minako-sensei hands him his glasses.

Once the world is restored around him again, he, too, gasps.

* * *

 

It’s being handed everything Yuuri has ever wanted. It’s seeing all his dreams, just moments ago nothing but mist, solidify before his eyes. It’s salvation.

* * *

 

His parents are worried, of course. Their small son, already friendless and bullied at the local school, attending some fancy Tokyo school? Having to board by himself in the big city, a place he’s over ever visited for competitions?

But they’re supportive, as they always are.

There’s only a month or so left before the entrance exams. Even though he’s entering under a sports scholarship and technically doesn’t need to sit them, he wants to prove himself, to prove that he belongs on the power of his mind as well as the power of his body.

He studies and skates, studies and skates. Yuuko is worried, he knows, and Mari takes to standing over his room, sometimes, just looking at his back. She takes over walking Vicchan, despite her own study for the University entrance exams.

He knows that if he’d just asked, she would’ve stayed in Hasetsu for him, forgone her dream to study business in order to better run their inn. That sacrifice, too, is one he doesn’t want her to ever make. Not for his sake, and not for anyone else’s.

* * *

 

He makes two trips to Tokyo.

Once, alone, for the exams, carrying nothing with him but a small bag, a pencil, and a water bottle. They take his measurements after the test, and he meets the Chairman again, along with a gruff Russian man named Yakov and a bright Italian man named Celestino.

Once, with two suitcases and Vicchan in a carry basket, Minako-sensei driving him to his new apartment, next to Ouran Academy.

* * *

 

Ouran is everything Yuuri feared and everything Yuuri longed for.

The building itself is ridiculous, more like a mansion than a school. The classroom is outfitted with comfortable, antique furniture, the latest electronic white boards and screens, and all the students tap away at personal tablets or laptops rather than the notebook and pen Yuuri had brought. The cafeteria is more alike to a five-star restaurant, and while Yuuri’s scholarship pays for meals as well, he feels distinctly uncomfortable, and chooses only the cheapest items on the menu – even that feels like an extravagance. But it doesn’t take more than a quick Google search before he amends his future choices. Cheap may be more comforting, but not at the expense of calories.

The students stare and whisper, but after the first day, few approach him. He's a pariah from the beginning. But that isn't anything new, really.

The skating facility is wonderful, of course, with three full sized rinks and a smaller isolated rink for personal practice. For the first few weeks he’s given private lessons rather than attending joint practice with the rest of the skaters – to ‘catch him up’ to their level, he assumes. He goes from landing doubles to attempting triples, finally achieving a triple loop to Celestino’s delight. He’s asked about music preferences and choreography and all Yuuri could think of was Minako-sensei and her graceful dance, who helped him with all his previous programs. He practices so many spins he’s dizzy, cuts compulsory figures until his feet ache, stretches and bends until he’s sure even Minako-sensei would approve. On and off the ice he’s give the best level of instruction, and with their praise comes his personal delight, temporarily soothing his anxiety.

There is morning practice, in the private rink. Then school, with a quick lunch, the majority of the time spent doing morning homework. After school is ballet, gymnastics or ballroom dancing, a run with Vicchan, and early dinner, until the other skaters are done with the larger rink. Then Yuuri has the ice to himself and Celestino, and skates until his feet ache and his calves are jelly. Then, a quick snack courtesy of his coach, and back to his apartment to finish the afternoon’s homework.

He’s given a key to the private rink, for use during the weekends, and he spends them in quiet contemplation, remembering skating with Yuuko at her family’s rink. In those quiet moments, left with only his own thoughts, he becomes reckless, attempting things he never would with Celestino present.

He lands his first quad toe there.

It’s so worth it. Despite the gruelling workload, he can feel himself improve, sees it in the videos Celestino takes for them to track his progress. The exhilaration from learning so much so fast is addictive.

Friday afternoons are usually his only free time. Usually, he prefers to spend them at home with Vicchan, quickly finishing the weekend homework, but there’s just so much this week. Far too much to finish with the distraction of a cute poodle who wanted affection and play more than for his owner to work.

But the library is full of chattering students, and the classrooms are little better.

Yuuri slips through the halls, aware of the looks following him. He may dress like them, all in the same pale blue, but they see the truth in his department-store glasses. He may walk like them, upright and graceful, befitting of a dancer, but they can see the scruffiness of his dull shoes, the way his tie is crooked because he’s only really learnt how to tie them properly this year, while they have been doing it since they could tie their own shoes. They see his difference in his hair, now long and shaggy, overdue for a haircut but he’s just had no time, no money – the stipend he’s given with his sport’s scholarship is for costumes and new skates, for dry cleaning his two uniforms weekly. He’s hesitant to use it for personal matters.

Yuuri wants to duck his head and hunch over, but he remembers Minako-sensei’s paper fan and Lilia-sensei’s biting words and walks straighter instead, tilting his head up.

He walks through the school until finally there is a wing mostly bereft of people. There are a series of music rooms here, all perfectly soundproofed, and some private piano rooms on the opposite side.

The first two music rooms have ‘engaged’ hung over the doors, so Yuuri walks to the third. He tries to peer through the crack, but the room is impenetrable. He hesitantly places a hand on the handle, debating.

Surely, if it was in use, it would be locked? And even if there were people inside, he could just apologize and leave. It wouldn’t be a big deal … right?

He bites his lip, and steels himself. Slowly, he cracks open the door. Hearing no music from within, he breathes a sigh of relief and opens it fully.

And is engulfed by a storm of blue petals and fifteen voices calling sweetly in unison;

_‘Welcome!’_

* * *

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri meets (some) of the hosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I'm going to regret writing this one day.
> 
> There's a lot of exposition. So much exposition. Why so much exposition. 
> 
> Again, have no clue about when the next chapter will be out. Maybe a week. Maybe more. If you've seen my previous story here, you know my update record is atrocious. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Yuuri doesn’t know how to feel about this.

There are fifteen people in front of him, of a wide range of ages, dressed in their uniforms, but with professionally charming smiles, perfectly posed. Half of them line either side of the doorway, bowing in the Western fashion, forming a straight path to the central group, carefully staged around a loveseat where a silver-haired high school student and a small blond elementary division student sit.

Yuuri blinks. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he bows, “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just-“

Before he could rise and quickly retreat, the platinum haired man – why does he look so familiar – leaps up, catching his hand and pressing it to his heart. “Oh, please, you haven’t even seen what we have for offer yet! I must say, though it’s not as unusual to have men frequent our club now as it once was for our senpai, you are a customer I would’ve never expected!”

Yuuri stares. “I’m … sorry?”

The other boy steamrolls over him. “Oh, no, don’t be _sorry,_ there’s nothing to be sorry about! We’re very accepting here. Why, Christophe mostly takes male customers! And there’s always our lovely hostesses, Mila and Sara! Though Sara comes in a pair with Michele, unless you want to get in the way of their twin bond! Or perhaps you aren’t after a lover at all? There’s Yuri and Minami if you’re looking for a little brother figure – Minami is so sweet, I’m sure you’d love him, and Yuri is a bit of a brat if you’re into that kind of thing!”

Yuuri _stares_.

The little blond slams a foot into the platinum haired boy’s shin, making him wince and hop for a few seconds. “Fuck you, Victor!” he snarls.

Victor …

Victor. Victor _NIKIFOROV?_

The two are bickering and Yuuri can’t stop _staring._ It’s … it looks like him? The ocean-blue eyes, the flowing platinum hair, the way he walks, full of grace … even his voice. Everything about him points to this actually being Victor Nikiforov but … how?

He was supposed to be finishing high school in a private institution, a secret from the media …

The pieces click together and Yuuri can’t breathe.

He was attending the same school as Victor Nikiforov? They’d been in the same building for the past few weeks? They’d skated on the same rink on the same days, for this entire time? Yuuri had only ever missed him by hours before now?

The world is turning blurry and is swimming before his eyes. There’s a voice, somewhere, calling to him, but he ignores it because he can’t breathe …

He practices like Minako-sensei taught him, steady, slow, in, out. That’s how he deals with his anxiety, and this feeling is similar.

In. Out.

When the world is in focus again he’s on the ground, against a wall, curled in a ball. Another boy is crouched in front of him, dressed in the middle school uniform.

“Are you alright?” the boy fusses, “Do you need anything? Water? Something sweet? We have juice, I’m pretty sure … do you need to take any medication?”

Yuuri blinks. “Ah … no, thank you,” he attempts a smile. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.”

He notices that the other members are keeping their distance. The blond is frowning at him, and … Victor, it has to be Victor, is shooting him worried glances even as he speaks with one of the girls.

“Oh, I’m so glad!” the boy says with a wide smile. “I’m Phichit, by the way, Phichit Chulanot! Oh, Phichit’s my first name, I’m from Thailand. I’m a second year in the middle school division, it’s nice to meet you!”

Yuuri nods dazedly. “It’s … nice to meet you too, Phichit-kun. I’m Katsuki Yuuri, first year in the high school division.”

“Oh!” Phichit’s eyes widen, and his grin turns delighted. “Oh, so you’re Yuuri-senpai! I was really looking forward to meeting you!”

“I … you … were? Um … I’m … flattered?” Yuuri stutters. He’s so confused. It doesn’t help that he’s still processing that Victor Nikiforov is in the same room as him, sharing the same space and air as him.

“Yes! We were all looking forward to meeting you!” Phichit says, spinning around to gesture at the entire room. “With how Coach Celestino has been going on about you, we’re all really excited!”

What? Just. What?

Another blond boy, this one dressed in a high school uniform sighs and comes forward, throwing an arm around Phichit. “Why don’t you go get some water for Yuuri here, hmm?” He releases Phichit, waving him away despite Phichit’s pout. “Now, I’m Christophe Giacometti. Just call me Chris. I’m in the class next door to yours, Yuuri.” He smiles, offering Yuuri a hand and pulling him up.

Yuuri finds himself steered into a comfortable chair, sat down with a dainty teacup placed in front of him and a small tower of sweets set between him and Chris. Phichit waves at him then disappears, taking out his phone as he goes.

“This must be so confusing for you, Yuuri,” Chris smiles at him, resting his chin on a hand. “But I can do my best to answer any questions you have. Does that sound alright to you?”

Chris’s charm is legitimately something that can be weaponized. “Uh … yeah, thanks,” Yuuri mumbles, not looking the other boy in the eye. “Um. What … exactly, is this?”

Chris blinks. “Oh, I thought Coach Celestino or Yakov sent you here!” he exclaims. “No wonder you’re so confused! You see, we, here,” he gestures at the room at large, “are the Figure Skating Club.”

Yuuri steals a glance at Victor and catches his eye. Yuuri blushes and whips back his head, glaring into his cup. “Yeah, uh, but what is …”

“This, is our Friday afternoon club activities. You see, the host club is a beloved tradition at Ouran Academy – ever since its first days when the Chairman’s own son founded it. After the majority of the club members graduated, it became steadily more popular, and steadily more selective, until one year, there just weren’t any hosts left! So we decided to take over for them. Exclusively open on Fridays, students can pay a modest fee to spend time with any of our skaters, male or female, young and old. Any profit we make goes to funding scholarships for promising young skaters – like you, Yuuri!”

“M-me?” Victor Nikiforov has been entertaining girls to fund his education?

 There’s a snort from behind him. “You’re so old,” the blond boy snaps – Yuuri thinks his name is Yuri? “Most of us start from elementary school. To enter as a high schooler … can you even skate?”

Victor – _VICTOR NIKIFOROV –_ practically glides over and taps Yuri on the head. “Manners, Yura,” he sing-songs, playfully wagging a finger at the boy. “Or there’ll be no pirozhki for you tonight!”

Yuri scowls harder and stomps away, throwing the finger at Victor when he’s turned away. Victor tuts mockingly.

“The state of our youth!” he laments dramatically, collapsing onto Chris. “Whatever shall we do with the boy?”

“He’s your headache, not mine,” Chris smirks, jokingly petting Victor’s hair. “There, there. I’m sure your son will listen to you one day.”

Victor scowls at Chris before sitting up, smiling at Yuuri. “I see Chris has been filling you in on the rich history of our wonderful club!” he exclaims.

Yuuri quickly averts his eyes. “Uh. Yeah,” he mumbles, sneaking a peek. Victor is still gazing at him with those huge adoring eyes, practically sparkling with excitement. Yuuri squeaks and fixes his gaze firmly on his cup.

“Good, good! Are you ready to begin then?”

“Ye- wait, what?” Yuuri’s gaze shoots up, panicked. “Start? Start what?”

Victor’s smile is still just as blinding. Yuuri swears he can almost see roses surrounding him. It’s dazzling. “Why, begin your training of course!”

“ _What training?”_ Yuuri wants to look away. He wants to run. Back to his little apartment where Vicchan is no doubt waiting patiently for him. Back to safety, away from the deadly allure of the man in front of him.

“To become a host!” Victor cocks his head, megawatt smile not dimming in the slightest. “Did you think your scholarship came for free? No, no, you earn it back! Either through competitions, or through the host club!” He leans in close, grabbing Yuuri’s hands over the table, his other hand reaching out to stroke Yuuri’s cheek. “Why, I’m sure with a sweet face like that, you’ll earn back your debt in no time!”

Yuuri can’t think. His hero, his idol, is mere centimetres from his face. His hands are so warm. He smells like roses.

Yuuri jumps back, tipping over his chair in his haste to get away. He clutches his hand protectively to his chest. “What? No! No way! What debt?”

Victor is practically angelic. “Well, one year’s scholarship at Ouran is usually about equivalent to … oh, what do you think, Chris? 1000 assignations?”

Chris laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, be kind to the poor boy,” he mocks. “100 is usually the benchmark. Only you’re that popular, Victor.” He smiles at Yuuri. “But more is generally encouraged. After all, what extra we make goes to either the general scholarship students or to improving the skating facilities, and can be used to supplement your own allowance.”

Yuuri’s mind is still racing, in complete disarray, but something in Chris’s words pull him up short. “Wait,” he says slowly, trying to get his thoughts in line, “Are you … all scholarship students, then?”

Chris and Victor both blink at him. “What?” Chris asks.

“Of course not!” Victor gasps. “Ouran is just the only school that offers world-class ice skating facilities on campus, world-class coaching services, and world-class dance facilities. Plus, they’re extremely accommodating for competitions all over the world, not to mention have great foreign language and curriculum choices! And extra tutoring!” He pauses for a moment, deep in thought. “I think the only scholarship students are Yuri and … actually, I can’t think of anyone else. You, Chris?”

Chris shakes his head. “No, that’s it. Just Yuri. I believe Leo is on a partial scholarship, though.”

Yuuri nods thoughtfully. “But …” he bites his lip. “Do I really need to be a host? Can’t I do something else? Be the gopher? Secretary? Treasurer? Clean-up?”

Victor’s eyes are soft and thoughtful, and he approaches Yuuri carefully this time, as if he were a frightened deer. Or rabbit. Yuuri sure felt like a rabbit, about to be devoured by wolves.

Victor stops just short of Yuuri, a single finger on his lips. He scans Yuuri up and down, assessing.

“Mila! Chris!” he barks, and the two are instantly at his side. “Mila, do something about his hair. Chris, get him contacts.” Both salute, and Mila rushes away. Chris whips out his phone.

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “No!” he tries to protest. “I hate contacts! They don’t fit well and they itch and …”

Victor’s eyes are definitely predatory now, if they weren’t before. His smile is still angelic. “Oh, don’t worry!” he says sweetly. “Chris can show you all the tricks! And he only wears the very best, so you don’t need to worry about that!”

Mila and Victors eyes are so alike that Yuuri wonders hysterically whether they’re related as she approaches him with a box of hair-care products and a brush. Yuuri scans the area for escape, to find that he’s now surrounded by the other hosts – skaters? Either way, there’s no getting away. He shrinks into himself, only to find firm hands grasp his shoulders and push him down into a chair.

His gaze swings wildly up, to find Phichit grinning down at him unapologetically. “Sorry, Yuuri!” he chirps. “Victor’s orders!”

Yuuri’s sure his dismayed wail can be heard from the other side of campus.

* * *

 

Yuuri squints at his image in the mirror. He’s never really seen himself without his glasses before except in photographs – he usually has to lean in too close to the mirror without them, and that close he knows his features are distorted. With his hair slicked back and trimmed evenly again, he wonders if this is what he looks like during competitions.

He has to admit, it’s not terrible. Sure, he still looks very average – his nose is a tad on the small side, his lips a bit too thin, his face still a bit too round …

“My!” Victor gasps, obviously pleased. “I knew there was a handsome prince under that little piggy!”

Yuuri turns red and ducks his head, embarrassed to be caught. “Sure,” he laughs nervously.

Victor purses his lips. He takes a cursory glance at his watch and sighs. “Well, unfortunately it’s already four. We’re opening soon, so unfortunately there’s no more time to show you the ropes today.” He thinks for a moment, and that finger is back on his lips. Yuuri thinks it’s incredibly distracting. “Phichit!” Victor calls, and the Thai boy is there in an instant, beaming.

“Yeah?”

Victor claps Yuuri on the shoulder. “You can shadow Phichit for the day, Yuuri! Phichit, show him how it’s done! He can have his own assignations next week!”

Phichit grins excitedly at Yuuri, and grasps him by the hands, swinging them happily. “This is going to be great!” he exclaims brightly. “Just leave it to me! Yuuri-senpai will be a world class host in no time at all!”

If Yuuri’s giggles are a bit hysterical, if his eyes are too wide to be pleased, neither Victor nor Phichit comment. “Hah. Yeah. Sure.”

Oh god, Yuuri thinks, as Phichit leads him to the door, hand like a vice around Yuuri’s wrist, talking a mile a minute. What has he gotten himself into?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT:
> 
> I feel like I didn't explain this very well, and I doubt it's going to come up again in the future, so in case anyone's actually curious:
> 
> Pooled income from 15 hosts (now 16) = enough to fund about 3 scholarships, of which 2.5 are currently in use.  
> Usual number of assignations throughout their ENTIRE time at Ouran = 100 (there's often only 6-7 hosts there per week, the non-scholarship students have a lot more leeway in when they want to come in. Most only have one guest per week who they spend the entire time with, Victor's the exception and has to dole out his time in 30min sessions, usually shared between 3-4 people. It runs for about 2 hours at a time.)
> 
> Extra assignations goes to general scholarship students (usually) OR if the skater in question wants a specific facility added to the rink/locker rooms/whatever, they can put their (extra) assignations towards that. For scholarship students, they can choose to put their profits towards their own allowance. 
> 
> The only reason all the skaters are there that week is because it's about time Yuuri finished his private practice and joins the rest of them in joint practice. They're all excited to meet the new boy. Unfortunately, Celestino didn't manage to find Yuuri that day to tell him to go to the third music room, so poor unsuspecting Yuuri stumbled in on them by complete accident.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ... so sorry. This chapter's been on my laptop for like ... a month? But I only just edited it a little ... let me know if you find any grammar/tense errors, I'll try and correct them.
> 
> Content warnings for Ouran-typical incesty vibes.
> 
> The end notes have info about the host types/ages. It's about as long as the fic portion. It's ... well, Ouran-typical levels of problematic. Please ignore if you don't want to be hc'ed at.

Phichit is, as Yuuri discovered, incredibly bright. He is a bouncing ball of energy, jumping from one topic to another, effortlessly entertaining his guest and even making sure Yuuri is included in their conversation.

There are little touches, a brush against the giggling girl’s shoulder, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, gestures that suggest intimacy but inserted seamlessly into their interaction. The girl gazes at Phichit adoringly as he shows her some photos he had taken that day.

This school let them do this? No, more importantly – they let a middle schooler do this?

Yuuri finds that he can’t look at the two for too long without blushing.

And then the spell is broken.

“Yuuri!” a girl’s arm snakes around his shoulders. “You’re with me next!”

Phichit winks and waves him goodbye as Yuuri finds himself dragged off by Mila, already chattering a mile a minute. “I’m with Sara and Mickey today, we’re doing something fun, you’ll see, it’s more like a play than what Phichit’s doing, I think both are fun though!”

Yuuri feels himself shrivel up inside even more than before.

Again he is seated in an armchair by himself, off to the side. He watches the bizarre show the three skaters put on.

Sara jokes with a small group of students, all from the middle school division – one girl, who doesn’t speak but watches with wide, avid eyes, and two boys who darts quick looks at Sara and Mila, stuttering out broken replies. Mila sits a bit too close to Sara, touches her a bit too much, laughs a bit too loudly at her admittedly decent jokes. She backs Sara up, a seamless duo except for the reddening boy beside them.

Yuuri watches with glazed eyes as Michele’s grimace twists more and more until finally, he explodes, grabbing Sara and bringing her into an embrace. “Get away from her! You don’t have the right to touch my sister like that!”

Mila stands, dramatically flinging out her arms. “Sara is my one true love! You will not separate us, Mickey!”

Sara’s eyes well up. “Mickey,” she sobs, somehow still graceful, “You have to let me go. I will always love you, but I love Mila too! Please, don’t make me choose!”

Michele gently strokes Sara’s cheek, and the two gaze tearfully into each other’s eyes. He pulls her closer, embracing her tightly. “I can’t, Sara! Don’t ask this of me! You are my twin, my other half! I will never let you go!”

Yuuri feels like he should … clap, or something. Everything from the overly scripted lines to the what he is pretty sure are fake tears is artfully executed. The guests watching them certainly seem to appreciate it, the girl wringing a handkerchief with tears flowing down her cheeks while the two boys, already tomato red, stare hopelessly at Mila and Sara respectively, looking like they were on the verge of tears themselves.

Yuuri doesn’t understand. Mila is still in middle school. Michele and Sara are in the same year as Yuuri. Is this really alright? Aren’t some of these children a bit too young for this? How did … all this, this, whatever it is, how did it come into being? Yuuri has so many questions, but he doesn’t know if he wants any of them answered.

In the meanwhile, Mila has collapsed to one knee, and is serenading Sara with some kind of love poem, one hand reaching beseechingly towards the older girl.

Yuuri abruptly stands up and looks around the room. If he has to observe, maybe he can observe something else. Something less insane.

He spots the rude child, Yuri, with a group of much older girls, mostly from the high school division. He sidles up to their table, laden with a truly ridiculous number of snacks.

The boy briefly glares at him but turns back to the girls as one of them cut a small piece of some sort of cake and passes it to him. He stuffs it in his mouth quickly, making a face. “Too sweet,” he growls out, turning away.

The girl is despondent, her friends hurriedly comforting her. “Oh,” she stutters out, “I’m so sorry, Yura! Oh, I should have known!”

Yuri’s cheeks puff out in a ridiculously cute scowl. “B-but … I- … It wasn’t too bad,” he finally manages to choke out.

The girl squeals and lunges towards him, stopped only by her friends. Yuuri watches in horror at the close save.

Another young boy, this one with dark hair in an undercut, approaches the table with a new tray of tea. “Yura,” he nods to his friend, “Here.”

He places the delicate teacup in front of Yuri, whose eyes light up in glee as he takes a quick sip. His eyes sparkle as he turns to the other boy. “Thanks, Beka!” he grins.

The girls squeal harder. Otabek smiles a small half smile and gives a thumb up, which Yuri returns with the brightest grin Yuuri has ever seen anyone wear. And that now includes Victor Nikiforov.

The pitch is becoming unbearable. Yuuri quickly retreats.

He tries to approach the table with the other elementary school boy instead, but as he gets closer, the child fidgets more and more, stealing quick glances his way with increasing frequency until he is just staring at Yuuri with saucer like eyes, wriggling in his seat. The girl he is with, another high school student, notices his distraction, and giggles when she notices Yuuri.

Yuuri freezes. Why is there giggling? Why is the boy staring at him like that? What did he do to the kid? Has he hurt him, somehow? Knocked him over in the hallway? Maybe the kid just doesn’t like the look of him?

The kid flings himself at Yuuri. His instincts force him to dance out of the way, spinning gracefully around only to trip on the corner of a rug and fall on his ass. His eyes don’t leave the child, also sprawled on the floor, but whose gaze has homed in on him again. Like some kind of raptor, Yuuri thinks hysterically. 

Yuuri has felt like prey plenty of times in his life before. This is the first time it was due to a child probably half his age, though.

“Yuuri-senpai!” the boy screeches, and his face breaks into the biggest grin Yuuri had ever seen. Not as bright as Yuri’s, perhaps, but much wider. Face-splitting. Terrifying.

“Ohmygod, I’m like, your biggest fan! I’ve seen all your programs, well all the ones online anyway, I know there’s not many, only like two or three, you should post more of them, they’re always so beautiful, and I’ve even been to see you in person before, remember at that competition in Kyoto that one time, I was there too, just watching of course, but I got your autograph and it was the best day of my life, I’ve tried to go to every single competition you were in since, but sometimes I don’t find out about them until it’s too late, I’m so sorry I wasn’t at your latest one, I’m sure it was amazing, the chairman himself scouted you after all, but of course you’d be scouted, you’ve got so much talent, I’m so happy you’re at Ouran now, we can skate together all the time now, this is going to be great!”

The boy is on him now, grabbing at his collar. Yuuri blanks out his voice, blanks out everything, and just stares at the boy now shaking him in complete and utter fear until the weight is finally taken off him.

He still trembles.

He looks up, to see Victor hoisting the boy into the air by the armpits, mock-stern as he lectures about letting people have their own space and not shaking your heroes – would you like it if fans just ran up and hugged you, Minami-kun? No? I didn’t think so! Now apologize to Yuuri – swinging the boy around every few words.

Yuuri wonders if Victor’s ever practiced pair skating. That looks very practiced.

Minami is eventually set down, and apologizes shamefacedly to a shell-shocked but finally standing Yuuri, who accepts it jerkily and vows internally to never be in the same room alone with Minami, ever.

After Victor ushers the boy, teary eyed and still throwing the odd look Yuuri’s way, back to the girl he was supposed to be accompanying, he takes Yuuri by the hand and leads the jerkily moving boy towards his own section of the toom, right in the centre, where he is surrounded by a veritable garden of girls.

“Since we’re closing soon, I think you should observe the master at work,” he winks, seating him firmly on the couch. Victor sits beside him, taking the hand of one of the girls and kissing it softly. “I’m sorry, my darling, for interrupting our time together. Children can be so unruly.”

The girl blushes an alarming shade of red, clutching at her hand when Victor releases it with hearts in her eyes. “N-no, please, don’t worry about it!”

Victor smiles beatifically at the girls in general, continuing their prior conversation – about some kind of upcoming ball, Yuuri thinks – all the while refilling the girls’ teacups, almost without looking, and completely soundlessly. He hands the pot to Yuuri, gesturing at Victor’s own near empty cup.

Yuuri, remembering the tea ceremony lessons Minako forced him to take – “It’ll teach you to be graceful in even everyday things!” – shrugs and swirls the pot gently before pouring it in a steady, even stream. As he finishes, he swirls the pot again and places it gently down, making not a sound.

Actually, the once animated conversation has also ceased.

Yuuri feels multiple eyes boring into him. Slowly, he looks up.

Victor and his entourage all stare at him. While Victor is unreadable, some of the girls look at him with obvious lust, one swallowing noisily while another bites her lip and squeaks.

This is just as, if not more, terrifying than Minami.

“Well!” Victor’s voice saves Yuuri again. He claps his hands, smiling at Yuuri with crinkled eyes and a cocked head. “Obviously I’m not the one our newest member should be learning from! Unfortunately, we’re closing soon, but next week, Yuuri, I want you to start with Chris! He’ll be just perfect to teach you what you need to know!”

What does Yuuri need to know? Is this something Yuuri wants to know?

The girls all take their cues to sigh and whine a little at Victor, whose eyes fill with tears. “I, too, am loathe to leave you, my Ladies, but duty and the ice calls me once again! I will return to you, I promise!”

Yuuri dazedly wonders if all the hosts get their scripts from the same author. Maybe Georgi, who hasn’t talked to anyone that afternoon but has been busily scribbling something on a clipboard. Or Chris, who bids his own guest, a male high school student, goodbye by whispering something in his ear and blowing gently when he was done.

Yuuri really doesn’t want to learn anything that Chris can teach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when there will be more. If there will be more. I'm a super slow writer and I never write particularly much either ... 
> 
> Some background info for those who are interested. Took me way too long to work all this stuff out. Please ignore if you don't want to be hc'ed at.  
> Host types:  
> Victor = Prince  
> Georgi = drama queen  
> Chris = effortlessly seductive. Overly seductive. REALLLLLLY seductive.  
> Sara, Mickey, Mila, Emil = forbidden love (siblings); love triangle; unrequited love (“Oh Sara, I will never let anyone else have you!” “Oh Mickey, you know I love you! But I love Mila too!” “Mickey, I long for you with all my heart! I know you think I’m after your sister, and if that’s what makes you happy, I’ll go with it! Will Mickey ever notice me?”)  
> Mickey = knight in shining armour.  
> Mila, Sara = individually and together entertain guys  
> Yurio, Minami = little brother figure (pretty much just gets spoiled by the girls) Yurio is rude about it (tsundere!) while Minami is sweet and shy about it  
> Phichit = natural. Will take selfies with you.  
> Leo = natural. More shy. Will play guitar and sing for you. 1000% will share headphones with you.  
> Guang Hong = little brother type. Knight?  
> Otabek = wild type. Doesn’t talk much. Takes a lot of assignations with Yurio. Wants to protect the child. Also a bit jealous and very admiring of the child. If primary school girls come (they don’t often get to, it’s a once-a-month open to them kind of thing and things are more kid-friendly then) they usually designate him (he’s their cool silent prince type) or Victor.  
> Seung-Gil = cold and calculating type. A bit mean. Least popular host. Can talk about his dog for days so quiet girls who like dogs may designate him.  
> JJ = prince type but more arrogant
> 
> I feel like I should mention that the club bans a lot of inappropriate members, like in the original story. Rude, sexually inappropriate especially for the ages of the hosts involved, exhibiting unhealthy fixations/behaviors ... there's a rule book. As long as you follow their rules, you're sweet. The ones that don't get banned and reported to the school management. 
> 
> AGES  
> High school 3rd year (17-18):  
> HS 2nd yr (16-17): Victor, Chris, Georgi  
> HS 1st yr (15-16): Yuuri, Mickey, Sara
> 
> Middle school 3rd yr (14-15): Mila, Emil, JJ  
> MS 2nd yr (13-14): Phichit, Leo, Seung-Gil  
> MS 1st yr (12-13): Guang Hong
> 
> Primary school: Minami (10), Yurio (10), Otabek (11)


End file.
